


Silent Princess

by Shen_Gong_Who



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 04:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shen_Gong_Who/pseuds/Shen_Gong_Who
Summary: Link appears each week in Zelda's shop to buy flowers that are obviously for the person he's dating and/or spending the rest of his life with. Not that she cares.





	Silent Princess

**Author's Note:**

> oops my hand slipped. One second I’m listening to _Higher Love_ to get over my writer’s block, the next this happened.

****

Steve Winwood’s _Higher Love_ played out quietly from the speakers of the quaint flower shop. At the present moment, there were only three customers in the shop: a male in a suit that probably cost more than the shop itself perusing the refrigerated premade bouquets and a teenaged couple flipping through the shop’s portfolio of corsages or boutonnieres they’ve designed before – one of her smarter decisions. Show the clients ones you’ve previously made to help gauge what they wanted their finished product to look it.

The base of several tulip stems littered the countertop as she trimmed groups of flowers for the bouquet she was working on. A lovely It’s a Boy bouquet for the woman who owned the jewelry boutique on the corner.

She placed three blue asters into the bouquet as the song faded into Berlin’s timeless _Take My Breath Away_.

(Could she say she abhorred such a classic? Because she did. Would anyone notice if she put _Higher Love_ back on? Now that was a masterpiece.)

As subtly as she could she reached over to change the current song when the bell above the door jingled.

“Good evening.” She called out to the newcomer, his face obscured by his drenched sweatshirt’s hood. Had it started raining? “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Changing the weather?” he joked. Turning her attention out the window she noticed that the rain looked to be coming down hard – and had been for a while. How long had this couple been looking at their catalogue? Hell, how long had the man been juggling between the chrysanthemums and the hydrangeas? The male approached the counter and looked at the young couple before looking back at her, silently asking if it were okay or to wait for them to finish? His blond hair in disarray: half wet, half mused from being freed of its cage known as his hood.

( _Mama Said Knock You Out_ shouldn’t be on this playlist!)

He briefly glanced about the shop, turning a full 360 degrees before stepping up to the counter. “Can you recommend something that says ‘I know nothing about flowers but I tried/care’ and ‘I didn’t pick up the first thing I saw in the premade section’?” She bit her lip in a vain attempt to hide her chuckle as the businessmen turned to glare at him.

“A quite talkative bouquet.” She smiled, pushing her current project to the side.

“Flowers do have a language or something like that.” His eyes glanced about once more before stopping to her left. “What are those? Do people like those?” he asked quickly.

“Calla lilies.” She answered, leaning on the countertop to see the white flowers he was pointing out, “I’d say they’re rather popular. Especially during wedding season.”

“I’ll take those then.” He began fishing in his sweatshirt’s pocket for his wallet.

“Do you just want just calla lilies, or do you want a few others thrown in as well.” At his affirmation of throwing in various other flowers, she left her post behind the counter grabbing a few blush pink Lily-of-the-Valleys and lilac baby’s breath, she held them up for his approval. A small nod from him had her wrapping up the small bouquet in ribbons and iridescent plastics.

Paying cash for the flowers, he gave her a bright smile.

It took a moment for the predicament he was in to dawn on him. He wore a hoodie, it was downpouring and he just purchased a rather lovely bouquet of gorgeous flowers. He pulled at the front of the hoodie to test if there was room to shield the flowers from the elements. He then tossed the small drawstring bag she hadn’t noticed he had off of his back.

“I wouldn’t.” she warned. “I’d just carry them. Flowers do grow outside, used to rain. Plus wrapped in plastic.” He gave her a curt nod as he headed out into the rain. He sprinted down the sidewalk, grasping the bouquet in one hand and securing his hood over his head with the other.

.

.

.

Cher’s voice carried through the store. It was a quiet Thursday evening. The last customer having come in approximately twenty minutes beforehand. She absentmindedly twirled her way across the linoleum floor, humming along to Cher’s contralto.

She had just finished wrapping up an assortment of flowers for timid Anju from the B&B a block over. The woman was making her own centerpieces for her wedding. The flowers had been trimmed, wrapped, and placed in the refrigerator behind the counter for her pick up in an hour.

As she was rearranging the hyacinth planters on the far table, the bell above the door dinged.

The male from the week before came racing through the door, his blond hair in disarray. He looked almost as if he had been through a tornado with the way the back of his hair was sitting. When his blue eyes spotted her, he darted towards the table she stood beside. “Hi, I’m late and need something, _anything_ , as quick as possible.”

Her fingers were stilled wrapped around the base of one of the hyacinth planters when he pointed towards a planter full of purple hyacinth. His eyes met hers, silently asking if it were alright to remove the plants himself. “The purple ones typically symbolize great sorrow and ask for forgiveness.”

His finger twitched downwards, pointing to the yellow ones seated on the lower level of the display table. “Jealously.”

“Nope, not what I’m aiming for. Any of these, uh-” his sentence trailed off when he tried to figure out the proper name of the plant.

“Hyacinth.” She supplied.

“Right. Any of the hyacinth happy? Living good lives, nay their best lives?”

She removed a planter with blue variations of the plant, “Sincerity?”

He shrugged, gently taking the planter from her hands. “Sincerity is better than jealousy.”

She gave him a small smile before leading him over to the register. As she typed into the machine, the male standing opposite her asked if that was really her name. Her least favorite question. Without meaning to, she sighed. “My name is in fact Zelda. No, my parents are neither historians nor comedians. Nor am I related to the crown princess Zelda of the Royal Family of Hyrule.” At least not to her knowledge.

“Cool. Parents named me Link so I get it.” And now she felt like a jerk, even if he wore a small smile. She may or may not have knocked the price down to make up for her response.

Glancing at the screen on his phone, his eyes widened. His (not lovely!) blue eyes looking upset. “Shit, she’s going to kill me. Thank you! Sorry I’m late.” With that he raced out of the shop.

That’s when Malon decided to make her presence known, exiting from the back room where she was supposedly on the phone with her boyfriend. “He was cute.”

“Shut up.” She began idly shifting the plants and flowers in the refrigerator behind the counter. She pretended she was making sure the orders waiting for patrons to come and pick up were in tip top shop but really she just did not want to deal with her best friend. Her best friend who had been trying to coax her back into the world of dating. After the shit storm that was the Break Up of the Century, when she and Ganondorf ultimately realized they were not meant to be in the same room together let alone a relationship. Then the attempt at long distance with Urbosa that fizzled from nightly conversations and weekly Skype dates to sporadic calls and random texts to radio silence and their inevitable separation. And if she were being completely honest with herself, she didn’t consider the two dates she went on with Groose at the behest of Malon to be anything of substance besides taking a extensive toll on her liver. The culmination of each situation led Zelda to believe romantic relationships with actual human beings were not her forte. May as well become accept her life as a spinster.

“The only relationships I need are with my plants because I love them unconditionally and they physically can’t leave me unless we amicably part ways when I sell them.”

“Hon, you need to get laid. I’d do it but I’m taken. Plus, you’re ugly and ugly isn’t my type. Need to at least be a nine.” She winked at the end of her statement. Her lips curling up in a teasing smirk.

Malon was lucky the bell over the door rang because she was about to be flipped off.

.

.

.

Malon was propped up at the counter, drumming her fingers against the kraft paper that littered every inch of the countertop. Zelda had to run to the bank up the block when a customer cleared her register out. He paid for a simple three Green Rupee card with a Huge Rupee, his smallest denomination, and then demanded she make his change solely in Green Rupees. She had to use up the rupees kept in the back that were stored to replenish the register.

Malon being the amazing best friend she is had come by to hang out (probably tease Zelda) and was able to cover for the walking blonde disaster.

The door to the shop rang and damn Zelda was going to kick herself. The guy from the week prior gingerly entered the shop at almost the exact same time he had appeared last week. His blond hair looked like it had a visit from a comb sometime within the past seven days as opposed to last time he had been in the shop. Looked like a poor guy stuck listening to the dreaded Song of Storms in the old myths.

“Hello. Welcome to Silent Princess, I’m Malon. Zelda’s out for a few minutes running an errand. I can help with questions on general everyday flowers but if you want something besides a rose or a tulip you may want to wait.” The male nodded and began perusing the orchids that sat prim and proper on the shelfs beside the window.

“If I want to know about these drooping things-” he started, pointing to the orchids.

Malon couldn’t keep the smile from forming, “Then you better wait for the shop owner to come back. I’m just here to make sure no one decides to burn down the shop in a free-for-all.”

“I’ll try not to.” He muttered, immersing himself which each display. He had been staring at the same dahlias for nearly ten minutes and subtly gazing towards the door each time the bell rang for a customer to enter into the shop. She rang up a prepaid purchase, which really consisted of having a customer show  their prepaid slip and her grabbing their purchase from the fridge. And she showed a little boy where the cacti were because succulents are in his eyes better than girly flowers while his sister grabbed each potted plant and showed it to their mom asking if she could get it, regardless if she knew the name or not.

“You would not believe the line.” Zelda grumbled as she marched to the register, “Can you?” she asked as she tossed Malon her bank bag. With a shake of her head, Zelda walked out to reorganize each potted plant the girl removed and made sure the displays were in order. “You would think the bank was closing its doors for good and if you weren’t there in time you’d never see your money again.”

The male slowly moved his way over towards Zelda. Giving them a moment, Malon began to sort the rupees into each correct slot in the register, leaving the leftovers in the bank bag. She got up to hide the bank bag in the safe sealed in the back room when she noticed Zelda and the male having a discussion in front of the tulips.

He looked to like the purple ones – which happened to be a personal favorite of Zelda’s late mother. They symbolized royalty and happened to be one of the few flowers that Malon knew the meaning of. Zelda’s home growing up had purple tulips everywhere. The dining room table, the end tables in the living room, each bedside table. Her mother even had a single purple tulip in a small glass vase in their bathroom beside the hand soap dispenser.

When she came back out, he was at the counter talking with Zelda as she wrapped red, purple, and white tulips with the kraft paper.

The male gave a small smile to Zelda and when he noticed Malon gave a bashful look, quietly asking for her not to say anything. With a curt look, he darted out the front door.

“You didn’t think to offer my customers help?” Zelda asked quietly, watching the little boy debate whether the small flower blooming from the cactus was stupid or not.

“I told him tulips were one of the few flowers I knew, otherwise he should stay and wait for your expertise.” That was an interesting color Zelda’s face took.

.

.

.

Like clockwork, the blond male came stumbling through the shop’s front door Thursday evening. A small pleasure to even out the nuisance that was her present customer. Whoever came up with the idea that the customer is always right had never owned their own business. The customer had nearly thrown the front door off its hinges, stomped throughout the shop glaring and making snide remarks about the poor quality of her flowers – which were of wonderful quality, excuse you. She grew the herself and had 4.8 stars on Yelp for a reason. His cheeks the color of merlot as his voice rose, demanding to speak with the owner of this mediocre flower shop. She could hear the air quotes around flower shop as he spoke.

He came barging in looking for a Venus Flytrap for his daughter. Her birthday was tomorrow and his perfect ray of sunshine only informed him five minutes before that she wanted one of those ghastly flytraps rather than the exquisite box of champagne colored roses he had at home waiting for her. According to him the roses would last at least a year as opposed to her flytraps that would probably barely make it out of the store.

(Thanks for belittling the quality of the goods sold in her store while at the same time looking to make a purchase?)

He had been ranting now for a solid twelve minutes about her horrible establishment because she did not carry Venus flytraps. How he would make a call and this place would be converted into some chain restaurant or coffee shop within the next month.

She did not carry any carnivorous plants.

Twelve whole minutes!

“I apologize sir, genuine Venus flytraps are labeled as vulnerable. There are only so many living in the wild and they grow in a small radius. I can recommend you to a colleague of mine. He and his wife specialize in carnivorous plants. They have a vast collection of cloned flytraps for sale-”

“Why would I give her a clone?” the customer started, his face shifting from a red hue to purple as he all but yelled how his baby deserved an authentic flytrap. She watched the palms that laid flat on her countertop curl into fists as his back went rigid. It was days like these when she wished that she put her business degree to use in a company where she was faceless and never met another damned customer.

But then Link opened his mouth.

“Excuse me but she has a right to sell or not sell whatever products she chooses. Especially carnivorous plants that can pose a danger to children.” Link’s eyes had narrowed, his face a hard plane of angles as he glared the customer down. “Leave her be. Just because she doesn’t carry the one plant you’re looking for does not mean you should treat her that way.” The man’s face shifted to an almost eggplant purple, his mouth open and ready to retort. Link raised an eyebrow just daring him to say something, _anything_.

The customer turned his attention back to her and loudly demanded for her colleague’s information. She gladly gave it to him if it meant she did not ever have to see him. She briefly felt bad for poor Tye and Sorelia, when he’d come stomping through their shop.

The bell of the front door rang out louder than the slamming of the door, leaving Link as her only customer. The bravado he had just been wearing dropping immediately. The blond’s blue eyes shifting about her selection of flowers and plants, as if trying not to look at her. The air between them falling into uncomfortable silence, her ears slightly ringing from the volumes of the male’s yells.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude.” Their voices overlapping.

“Sorry.” Link muttered, rushing a hand through his mane of hair. “I’ll just go over there.” He pointed at nothing in particular, speeding towards the gardenias.

He milled about for a bit then pointed at the small cape jamine gardenias, asking to get a few wrapped up. He pulled his wallet from his pocket but she waved him off. “Most customers just stand there while I get verbally lashed. Typically, it’s about the sign. Very rarely does a customer ever take my side. As a thank you.”

He fished out what he would have paid for the gardenias and slid it onto the countertop. “For your none existent tip jar.”

Gripping the bouquet in his hands, he looked around the shop languidly. “Why do they yell at you over the name?”

“Because I don’t sell silent princesses and people claim it’s false advertisement.” Judging from the confused look in his eyes (even if his face remained neutral) she didn’t think he knew what a silent princess was. “They were these beautiful blue and white flowers that went extinct thousands of years ago.” She pointed to the sketch she made and hung up in a frame behind the cash register.

“Sadly, I’ll never see my favorite flower.”

Link opened his mouth to say something when a soft melody sounded from one of his pockets, “She’s- I uh gotta go but again sorry if I overstepped. He looked ready to jump over the countertop.”

.

.

.

“I heard you have an admirer.”

“I heard you’re supposed to be at work but alas looks like we’re both wrong.” Zelda said, not lifting her gaze from her balance sheets. She already knew the redhead would be propped by her hip against the far table, arm crossed while wearing some cropped top and tight jeans ensemble. Regardless of the weather, Midna’s belly button and flat stomach were on full display – and Zelda was in no way self-conscious. At all. That is preposterous.

“Had something to do late in the afternoon, opted to just head home rather than brave traffic trying to head back to work.” Not like Midna proudly weaved through traffic on her motorcycle. Looking up, Zelda noticed her friend’s long tresses done up in an intricate twist, not a hair out of place. Maybe no motorcycle today. “So blond, blue eyes, cute and yet you’re still depressingly single?”

She held her tongue from making a comment about them being a pot and a kettle.

And it hasn’t been _that_ long.

“Any particular reason you showed up on a Thursday, not long before this so-called admirer typically pops in?”

Her friend’s lips stained a deep wine color curled into a smirk, “Really? I had no idea.” She needed new friends.

“Did you at least lock the back door when you came in?” She may as well just head back to the front of the store. Her eyes weren’t focusing on the numbers and her brain wasn’t comprehending them.

When she walked out front she saw the familiar flop of blond hair walking passed the store windows, head buried in his phone. “Malon was actually telling the truth for once. Her taste is iffy, seeing as she chose to date the wrong member of your family.”

“He’s seeing someone. He comes in every week and buys her a new bouquet of flowers every Thursday.” Zelda muttered as the bell over the door rang out. She averted her gaze both from the door and from her friend. Instead she looked towards the miniature azalea bushes. She had feed them today, hadn’t she? Of course she did, she knew exactly when to feed and care for the plants. She just need something to busy herself – away from Midna’s prying eyes and the attention of her most recent, and most frequent customer.

He had been in the shop twice before when he realized he was running late for meeting up with a girl – his girlfriend? Wife? Life partner? Because some people aren’t about marriage and that’s cool. And his ring finger is bare. Not that she was looking.

A girl who gets a lovely bouquet every single Thursday, probably for date night.

“I was informed to get Narcissus.” He stated boldly. Without a word, she stalked over to her crowd of Narcissus plants. “Uh, aren’t those daffodils?”

He actually knew name for a flower?

“They’re the same.” Midna called out, her form leaning against the doorjamb leading to the back office. “But you never give just one. Means something about bringing the recipient misfortune.” Midna remembered that? Zelda had told her that years ago, when she first opened the shop… well and again last year when she put a single daffodil as the centerpiece in a bouquet that to the best of her ability told Ganondolf to go eff himself.

“Right not trying to wish her misfortune.” He muttered. His fingers traced the petals, dancing their way up the corona. His eyes darted towards the sketch hanging on the far wall, “Did you know the silent princess was believed to be the favorite of another Zelda?”

She let out a small chuckle as she nodded. Her mother thought it was rather fitting, the favorite of her Zelda happened to be the favorite of _the_ Zelda. “It’s also said to bring good fortune to couples who pluck them and swear their love to each other over the flower.” Link continued, his eyes never leaving the sketch.

“Did you Google them?” Midna’s low laugh rung out through the rather quiet shop. Link turned his face away, staring at the group of narcissus.

“No.” his tone of voice betrayed his denial. “But they were also predominantly used to season dishes of the time or tweak armor and clothing.” He went home and looked up the silent princess?

Akin to how his voice betrayed his statement, her smile betrayed her. She hoped to remain neutral during Link’s entire visit to the shop, especially with the extra pair of eyes behind them, but she failed. He did something so simple but sweet. She mentioned her favorite flower and he looked into it.

“Yes, I did know that,” She found herself still smiling as she plucked several narcissus to wrap, “but thank you for the reminder.”

Link dawdled at the counter discussing whether or not the plant had been ‘eaten into extinction’ – his words, not hers. His phone had to go off, like it did the week before, for him to step out of the shop. The moment the door closed behind him, Zelda let out a groan, dropping her head onto the countertop. “Don’t.”

“Wasn’t gonna but you sure he’s seeing someone?”

.

.

.

She found herself singing along to ABBA’s _Waterloo_ as she swept up the floor. There were only a few minutes before closing, she figured she may as well get a start on prepping to shut the shop down for the night. She had sold out of her peonies after they were featured on the local news station but then a little girl threw up on her – so she’d say the day was mostly a win.

The bell rang exactly five minutes to close. She heard a girl’s voice jovially recanting an adventure she and her friends had gone on. Looking up she noticed a teenaged girl had her blonde hair done up in two space buns. The girl held the door open as an elderly woman entered the shop, her left arm looped through Link’s as he guided her.

“Oh my.” The older woman said, glancing about her eyes never staying on one flower for too long. “They really are lovely.” The older women seemed to take notice of her and a small smile formed, “Truly.”

The teenager holding the door walked straight for the birds of paradise. You could see the wheels in her head turning as she analyzed the odd yet striking orange blossoms. Link guided the woman around, the woman looked on a hunt to find just the right flower.

“He’s brought me a several bouquets from your shop.” The woman started, her wrinkled hand patting Link’s forearm, “While each is breathtaking, we’re trying to find the flower most befitting for the dining room table.” She whispered something to Link who released her arm, letting the woman trail over to the teenager.

“Your mom?”

“Grandma.” He shyly answered, “She loves the flowers by the way. We went out to dinner for the first time in forever and it ran later than expected. I told her you were closing up but she had been adamant in coming pick the flowers herself this time because I haven’t been doing a very good job.”

The woman keenly looked at the birds of paradise as well, probably picturing what it would look like on her dining room table.

“Do you mind if we get two bouquets?” Link asked, tugging at the beanie begrudgingly covering up the mop of blond hair.

“Really?”

He gave an awkward chuckle before asking if she could make a bouquet for him: lavender gladiolus, rich purple irises, and black tulips. He told her to throw in whatever else she saw fit. Odd bouquet. Not often did she get a request for black tulips, especially paired with lavender. She nodded and made her rounds around the shop, picking the flowers from their specific locations. Whilst picking the flowers, the teenaged girl pointed at the birds of paradise.

“These are weird, I want them.” The girl declared happily. Link’s grandmother shaking he head with an affectionate smile.

When she returned to the counter, she noticed Link had selected one of the display vases she had on a shelf. All plastic replicas of the ones sold in her shop.

“We’ll just wrap those.” Link quietly said, “The vase is for the one I asked for.”

After everything was wrapped and situated in vases and paid for, the grandmother’s frail hand reached for the girl’s, “Aryll wanted to show me something in the window next door.”

“Let’s go Gran, they have puppies!”

The bell over the door echoed through the shop. “I know we came late. Gran was determined to find the perfect flowers to accent the dining room.”

“Apparently after your valiant efforts, the winner happened to be Ar- I’m sorry Aryll?” He had come in every week to buy flowers for his grandmother. Not a wife, not a life partner, not a girlfriend – his grandmother.

“Yea… I tried my best but my best just was not good enough it seems.” His smile seemed slightly off. She went to hand him the vase when he shook his head. “I know you’re surrounded day in and day out by flowers, and I know none of them are your favorite but I figured I’d try, right?”

She gave him a confused look and he gently pushed the flowers closer to her, “According to the internet,” - did he really just say that? - “black tulips symbolize power, irises symbolize wisdom, and while everything I saw for courage looked to be a herb or a weird looking bush, gladioluses mean-“

“Strength of character.” Zelda cut him off with a laugh, “You wanted a triforce bouquet?”

“You may never get to see a silent princess but I figured this might be a nice second.” His statement sounded more like a question, as if he wasn’t sure she agreed.

“You bought me a bouquet I made from my own flower shop?”

“Yes, in hindsight that doesn’t seem like the romantic gesture buying you flowers is supposed to be.”

Her eyes crinkled in the corners as she smiled, “Romantic gesture?”

“Yes?”

“Well looks like you’ll have to buy two bouquets every week then.” Today was definitely a win.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending was rushed I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was. Kind of an early birthday present to myself. Apparently if I write Zelink it had to be in modern form and his family is his wingman...


End file.
